


The Moon

by silvertrails



Series: Our Love [18]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Fingolfin mourns Arakáno's death.





	The Moon

**The Moon  
** By CC  
September, 2011 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

The story is set right after Fingolfin and his host arrive at Middle-earth. In Home 12 canon they were attacked by Orcs, and defeated them, but the cost was Arakano’s death. Lalwendë is Finwë’s younger daughter, according to Home 12.

* * *

My son is dead, and that beautiful and brilliant sphere in the sky seems to be a mockery to my grief, to my people’s grief. I cannot believe in better times to come, not now when the memory of Arakáno’s cooling flesh lingers in my fingers, in my arms. I look at the too small cairn we have built to honor his death and his sacrifice. There is no time to do more, to think of what we could do. The hideous creatures that attacked us could come back, and we must protect our young. 

I give the order to continue, and watch my sons and nephews gathering their kin and friends. The warriors first, Elf Women and children behind, and more warriors at the rear... I notice a few Elf Women determined to fight on their own, Írissë and Artanis among them. I trust my sons and Arafinwë’s to keep a close eye on them. 

I look at the light in the sky again, and then at Findekáno, who now stands like a ghost at my side. He was the closest to Arakáno. I wish I could reach out and embrace him, try to soothe the pain, but it’s been a while since my son I have been able to communicate. The disaster at Alqualondë, when he rushed into battle without thinking of the consequences, has made matters worse.

It is not his fault. I know it, but I also know that it Maitimo’s safety what drove him to act without thinking. I might have done the same, had I been on the front. In the end, Arakáno followed his brother, and I followed both. Even Turukáno drew out his sword. We killed our friends, and it was all for nothing. Fëanaro took the ships with him and abandoned us here, to die or return to Tirion in shame. 

I could never go back to ask for pardon, like Arafinwë did. Maybe he is braver than me, or maybe he is right when he says that I am more like Fëanaro than I care to admit. I would never betray my brethren, though. Had Fëanaro not led our people outside Tirion only to betray us, nothing like this would have happened. Arakano, Elenwë, so many others who died would be alive. We would still be in Tirion.

I want to curse Fëanaro’s name, but the words die on my lips before I can pronounce them. I love my brother, even if now I hate him too…

I turn around, realizing we have not moved yet. They are waiting for me to lead. I see Írissë talking to Turukáno and Itarillë, and I hear Laurëfindil’s soft voice speaking to Ehtelë. I try not to remember Arakáno’s hand trying to touch Ehtelë’s cheek… 

I cannot blame Findekáno for this… 

I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to see Lalwendë looking at me. There is pain in her eyes, and compassion. Before I can speak, Findekáno seems to come back to life and walks away from us. Findaráto follows him. I want to follow him too, feeling that I have been unfair to him in my thoughts, but Lalwendë shakes her head. 

I swallow the knot in my throat. I cannot give in to pain openly. I must stay strong for my people’s sake. My sister’s eyes say that she understands, and that we will grieve together when we are safe at last. 

“Let’s go,” she says softly. “Let’s go,” she tells the others. Findekáno returns, eyes still lost in some distant point I cannot see, but he stands at my side, as always. I place a hand on his shoulder and feel him start slightly. He looks at me, and nods imperceptibly, and together we start the march away from Arakáno’s resting place.


End file.
